And Kiss They Must!
by nightwingangel
Summary: The Bosses (of the Nations) decide to set a play (Romeo and Juliet) for their communities all over the the world in grand cities: New York, Tokyo, London, Beijing, Moscow, Berlin, and Seoul, and the chosen cast are the nation by luck of the hat. (main pairing: Rusame, other: FRUK, Gerita)
1. Chapter 1

_AN: The story is plot less. Please be aware English is not my best subject so there will be errors. I sometimes even have a habit of writing when my mind is half asleep and miss words and stuff. I apologize in advance. I will edit here and there. Please enjoy._

 **Chapter One**

It was another day at the United Nations (Nations) conference room. Most nations were presence, where some felt the need not to show up for reasons of their own. The usual G8: Italy, Germany, Japan, China, America, England, France, and Russia...plus Canada were present. There was also Austria, Prussia, South Italy (Romano), Spain, and other European nations. They all sat at a grand round table, so that each Nation could see the nations all around them. Like always America always started the meeting, but it was England who took over with a paper in one hand and a top hat in the other. He was twirling the hat as he read through the file.

"And so the Bosses have all agreed that we should do a play for all the major cities around the world," England explained as he placed the paper down to look at the nations around him.

"What kind of play?" Austria asked, suspiciously.

"Romeo and Juliet."

"Was this your boss's idea?" France asked.

"No. It did not specify who had the idea and they probably want to keep it that way, just that they agreed that we need do the play with us-," England pointed to himself first then to the others as he spoke. "-As the cast."

"Do we even have time for a play?"

"We might as well set time, because the bosses want it, and it's not a bad idea. Now then," England continued to swirl the hat. "In order not to offend anyone the bosses also wanted the cast to be elected by the draw of this hat." He lifted the hat high so that everyone could see the fancy looking hat before handing it over to Canada who was next to him. "Pick only one piece of paper and pass it to the person sitting next to you. Please no peeking at the name until everyone has a slip. Understand?"

"Why?" America asked.

"Because I said so," England nearly snapped.

After five minutes of everyone getting a slip of paper the hat reached England and he took hold of the last folded paper in the hat. "Now then in the count of three we see who is who in this play. 1...2...3."

Everywhere around the table people unfolded their tiny piece of paper to glance at who got who.

"GAH!" It was America, he dropped the paper and it landed like a feather on the table. He pulled back and stared at who he got in horror. NO! This was some mistake! No way!

"What is wrong, America?" Japan peeked over America's shoulder at the horrid paper. "Oh. That is not bad."

"Who'd you get?" France rushed over to also sneak a peek. He suddenly burst into laughter.

"Now I'm curious," England mumbled forgetting to check who he got.

"He is Juliet." France said out loud for everyone to hear.

The nations all around burst into laughter.

"Well you did always want the spotlight on you," England snickered.

"No! I refuse to be Juliet!" America cried.

"So who is Romeo?" Canada asked, curiously. That was when everyone besides America returned to check their own paper.

"Well I don't mind being America's mother," England got Lady Capulet.

"I think you'd make the perfect wife," France snuck an arm around England's waist.

"Hands off, Frog," England pinched France's hand.

France dropped his hold to hold the now injured hand. "Is that how you treat your husband."

"Quit spreading lies!" England snapped.

"I'm not lying! See," He showed his crumbled paper to England.

England gawked. "No! No! There is no way your my husband." France was Capulet.

"Ha, Ha!" America laughed. Well, now that England had to wear a dress like him he didn't have to worry about suffering alone.

"But who is Romeo?" The other nations were dying to know who got to be Romeo.

"Kolkolkol."

The crowd all froze.

Russia wasn't happy as he dropped his slip of paper.

The crowd was curious what got Russia acting well weird.

Belarus-who chose to sit next to her dear brother- sneaked a glance at his paper. "Oh, big Brother, I'm happy for you."

"I-it can't be," America's voice cracked.

"But it is," Belarus revealed the paper to everyone.

"AHHH!" America would have fainted. No! No! There was no way in hell he was playing a character who would be Russia's lover.

"Well that is one way to break the tension between them," China mumbled.

"This play might actually be interesting," Germany said, because two countries who hated each other to the core ended up playing the main leads. This was going to be perfect.

"Germany," Italy peeked over Germany's shoulder to sneak a glance at his paper. "Who'd you get?"

Germany showed Italy his paper.

Italy nearly squealed. "I will be your wife, Germany."

"Huh?" Germany blushed. "Really?"

"Mhm," Italy showed Germany his paper.

"OH." Germany was positive his face was a tomato. Italy got Lady Montague and Germany was Montague. Maybe they could pretend Russia was their child...a scary...weird...child. Germany shivered. "Well then...I look forward to working with you."

"If-if we don't want our part, can we switch?" America asked. The spotlight was fun in all when he didn't have to wear a dress and play the hero, but playing Russia's lover...No way in hell!

"The bosses said we are only allowed to change parts once before the casting becomes official, so everyone think wisely."

"Sweet," America took the opportunity to ask the first person to trade with him: Canada.

"Sorry, America, but-," Canada sneaked a quick glance over at Russia who didn't make a move to switch with other people. "-I think you're the only one able to handle Russia."

And so America got the same or similar response from everyone in that room. Why was everyone scared of Russia? What was so scary about Russia? America glared deadly at Russia. He wasn't scary, but the second Russia looked at him America looked away shaking. Okay, maybe he was a little scary. Wait! America turned back to the spot where Russia was sitting and Belarus was right next to him. Maybe...America smiled widely...oh yes...Belarus would love to be Juliet.

That smile...oh Russia noticed the way America looked at Belarus, and as much as he didn't like the idea of being America's lover he wasn't going to give up Romeo. Finally, he would have the spotlight as a good guy. And people would have to praise him for his amazing acting. Russia could act...maybe. Anyway, Russia wasn't stupid. The instant America looked at Belarus with that expression of - _I just got an idea_ \- he knew he had to prevent Belarus from getting Juliet, because there was no way in hell he was kissing his sister even if someone gave him a trillion ruble.

"Sestra," Russia called Belarus.

"Yes, big brother," Belarus beamed.

"You know I love you, _da_?"

Belarus squealed. Rarely did her precious big brother admit his love to his dear sister...rarely, but she knew her brother loved her.

"I will love you a thousand times more if you don't trade with Amerika."

Belarus didn't respond, she was thinking, and as she was thinking America was approaching her. Please, make her agree with Russia, please make her agree.

He had to try another method.

"You love me, right?" He asked.

"Of course I do," Belarus answered without a second thought.

"Then show me your love by doing as I say, _da_?"

"HEY, BELARUS!" America greeted loudly like always. "Wanna be Juliet?" He went straight to the point.

"Sorry, but my Big brother's love is more important than stupid character."

And that's how America ended up being cast as Juliet.

-to be continued

 _AN: I deleted Experiment 22, but it will return once I have an idea of what is in store. Hope you guys enjoy._


	2. Chapter 2

The whole cast of Romeo and Juliet stood in one grand stage of some random theater in London. America and England stood far away ( _as the stage would allow_ ) from their counterparts; neither wanting to acknowledge their Romeo or Capulet, but at least England didn't have to worry about sharing a kiss. Italy, on the other hand, came dressed in a renaissance gown of beautiful baby blue and gold colors. It suited him well. The only thing missing was the wig. Germany wore a casual outfit which didn't match his 'wife's' attire. Italy was somewhat upset, but he could live with it.

"Hello, everyone," Hungary greeted the cast as she stood at the center of the stage with a script in her hand. She was cast as the director of this whole play and she was going to enjoy every moment of it. Next to her was Lichtenstein, she held a stack of scripts. Lichtenstein was cast as the stage manager. She would do her best to manage this play. She was even excited.

"Here are the scripts," Lichtenstein waved the pile of scripts before handing them out by the name written on top of the script of the Nation's given character.

"Please look through the script once its given to you." Hungary began. "I was kind enough to highlight each one of your parts by your individual script.

Once nations were handed their script they skimmed through it. England, though had the script memorize from line to line and scene.

"I also made some alterations to the script." Hungary continued.

Oh. Alterations? England flipped through the script to check the alterations. And just to be sure the alteration didn't damage the play.

"No. No. No," Next to England, America was crying dramatic tears as he skimmed through the script. "WHY ARE THERE OVER FOUR KISS SCENES?!" He demanded throwing the script as if it were poison. "THERE SHOULD ONLY BE ONE!"

Hungary smiled, evilly. "Please. This is the modern age. People don't want just one kiss they want multiple. Fu. Fu."

America grabbed at the collar of his own shirt and bit it hard in hopes to tear the dam shirt, because something had to take the frustration of his anger.

Hungary cleared her throat ( _mirth still written on her face_ ) to get the whole cast attention. "Before we begin the bosses sent me a message saying we have two months to prepare for the play. That gives us two months to have stage props and costumes set up. I like-" Hungary pointed to Italy with a huge smile. "That one of us has gotten into the spirit of the play. In fact Italy, do you have any similar outfits in different sizes?"

"Of course, I thought of everyone. " Italy answered happily. "I brought them too."

"Oh. Good," Hungary squealed. "Then we will use them as temporary costumes. Everyone, go find your size and put them on. And America, you must were a dress."

More dramatic tears fell from America's eyes. He's never worn a dress in his life. "My reputation is ruined."

"Your reputation has already been ruined, " England patted America's shoulder. "Lets go get dressed."

 **~:::::~**

It was as if medieval times took over the stage once everyone returned dressed in their attire. America was wearing a light pink and yellow renaissance gown ( _that surprisingly looked good on him_ ). Both on the breast of the gown and skirt were leaves ( _blended with the pink and yellow_ ) falling like patterns onto the ground. The sleeves were beige that were fitted on the arms, but once reached the elbows fell like ruffles to the wrist. Shamed of what he had to wear America huddled up in the darkest area of the stage, where no one could see his shame. England was wearing a red and brown renaissance gown similar to Americas, but instead of leaves there were diamond shapes falling in vertical patterns to the hem of the skirt. He wasn't as bothered about wearing the dress as America, just that he found the outfit uncomfortable. How did women breath in these gowns? Good thing he didn't have boobs to suffer the fate of the corset underneath, but it was doing a good job of squishing his chest.

On the opposite side of the stage Russia was wearing the male version of the renaissance attire, except he refuse to wear those puffy _whatever-you-call-them_ bottoms and the codpiece. Everyone who were playing the male characters -besides France- refused to wear the puffy bottoms. His attire sleeves were a light blue that had Embryophytes beige leaves wrapped around. The jerkin and breeches were a dark-purplish grey color. To everyone's horror he looked surprisingly good. They were jealous, but just a little. France's attire was complementary to England's gown, he wanted people to know they were married. The sleeves of his attire were red and had a light beige design falling in square shape pattern. His jerkin and breeches were a dark brown and his puffy shorts were red. He did manage to pull off those puffy pants, and to complete his attire he had a vest like coat. Germany was planning to wearing a loose renaissance tunic, but Italy got after him, nearly cried too, until Germany gave into the light blue jerkin with a golden design blended in the mix. His breeches were a light yellow that complimented the jerkin. It was the most he was planning to wear, besides it was only the first day of practice.

Those who played the characters of the Capulet family wore similar colors of England and France. There was barely enough red and brown colors in the clothes Italy brought, but it some what worked. For the ones playing the characters for the Montagues wore a similar light blue or dark blue attire.

"I knew I could trust Italy," Hungary smiled widely. "I might just borrow these clothes, but of course we still need one more dress for Juliet!"

"NO!" America cried.

"Lichtenstein please take pictures of everyone."

"Okay," Lichtenstein took out her camera and snapped as many pictures of the cast.

"Now that is all settled I think we should begin our practice with Act 1, scene 5." Hungary began.

"Why scene five," A few mutter curiously as they flipped through the script then...

then...

America fainted.

"And that is why we must start with Act 1 Scene Five," Hungary pointed to the fainted American.

A few snickered.

Hungary jumped off the stage and landed with style on the ground. She sat on one of the comfortable seats facing the very front of the stage. Lichtenstein sat right next to Hungary.

"AND ACTION!"

 **~:::::~**

'" _Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go:_ '" France ( _Capulet_ ) waved Romano ( _Tybalt_ ) off. '" _Be quiet, or-More light, more light! For shame! I'll make you quiet_.'" France lifted his fist as if to punch Romano. Romano took a step away from the fist. '" _What, cheerly, my hearts!_.'"

Romano sighed angrily and moved to-what Hungary called an exit ( _There was no exit_ ) and glared at Russia ( _Romeo_ ) who was just tugging at the sleeve of his outfit ( _not in Romeo-character when he should be_ ) and said the next lines of Tybalt by reading the script. Romano then jumped off the stage.

Hungary let the- _jumping off the stage_ \- slide for the moment, because she was testing the actual main leads, not the others...yet.

There was a long silence after Romano exited the stage, a very long silence.

"Russia, you're next," Spain poked Russia on the side.

"Oh. Oh." Russia scrambled with his script and skimmed through scene five, because he had no clue as to what part they were in.

"Russia-Romeo," Hungary called. She stood up from her spot. "Why aren't you trying to get Juliet's attention?"

"She is hiding," Russia answered, because really where was America?

Now that Hungary looked at the stage where the cast of the Capulets should be dancing (there was no dance for the time being) America was no where to be seen.

Hungary did a face palm. "Someone please bring us Juliet."

 **~:::::~**

"Found you." Italy giggled.

"AH!" America jumped from his hiding spot. His hiding spot was being huddled in fetal-position in the farthest seat from the stage. How he got there without anyone's notice was beyond answering.

"What is wrong, America, why hide?" Italy asked, as he copied America's fetal-position.

"I don't wanna be Juliet and no one wants to trade with me," America answered. He looked like a little helpless kid as he did.

"Oh come on, Juliet is not so bad. You get the spotlight and everyone will see that America is very good character."

"Good character, I am a good character." America nearly snapped holding out his fist.

Italy faked coughed. "Yeah...um... point is I think you can do it. Be an amazing Juliet."

"But-"

"You'll be everyone's hero too."

"How?"

"Because-" Italy peeked over the seats at the stage. Everyone was scrambling around still looking for America, except for Russia, he was busy reading his lines. "-Only you can handle Russia. Please."

America sighed loudly. "Y-yeah. Y-you're right. Okay. " He quickly stood up, accidentally stepping on the hem of his dress and nearly falling, but caught himself in time. "I can do this."

"YAY!" Italy clapped happily.

 **~:::::~**

As France and Romano were saying their lines, America stood opposite of Russia with the deadliest stare he could manage. What was more annoying was that Russia was just smiling ( _still not in Romeo character_ ) with his eyes hiding whatever thoughts he had just to annoy America even more. It was kind of fun annoying the American.

"I hate you," America mumbled so no one, but Russia could hear.

"The feeling is mutual," Russia said with that same smile.

"So then why didn't you just switch with someone else, huh?" America demanded. He so wanted to punch Russia in the face.

"Why must I be the one to switch?" Russia threw back.

"Because no one wants to play opposite of you," America nearly snapped.

"Does it look like I care what others think, Amerika?"

America placed his hands on his hips and inhaled as much air as his lungs could hold. He opened his mouth to say something when Spain had to inform Russia that his lines were up. America groaned, great, the scene was coming up. It was the first day though, hopefully they won't make him do what the script said he had to do.

'" _If I profane with my unworthiest hand_ ,'" Russia began, taking hold of America's hand. ( _And F...K did America's heart just skipped a beat by the touch_ ). '" _This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:- My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand-To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss_ ,'" Then Russia did the unthinkable, he kissed America's hand.

America quickly pulled his hand away and moved far away from Russia as he could, because he was totally not expecting a kiss on the hand. Hungary did not add a -Romeo kiss Juliet's hand- into the script.

"CUT!" Hungary said out loud. And the scene was broken. "America, Juliet does not run away from Romeo." Hungary scolded.

America hid his red face by facing the wall of the stage. "She should what kind of girl allows a man to touch her so easily?" America grumbled quietly.

"Again! And Russia good job," Hungary gave Russia a thumbs up. She was even surprised that he even got into his character considering who he was playing opposite of.

America bit his lip. He should have been getting that compliment. F...K! He hates Russia a thousand times more.

 **~:::::~**

Russia kissed America's hand again, this time making sure his lips lingered longer before letting the hand go.

America took a deep breath and kept his eyes reverted from Russia and wiped the kiss that he swore he could feel lingering on his hand. Yuck! He unfolded his script to say his lines because he did not have them memorized. "' _G-good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, -Which m-ma-mannerly devotion sh-shows in this;-For saints have ha-hands that pilgrims' ha-hands do to-touch,-A-and palm to p-palm is h-holy p-palmers' kiss_.'" Surprisingly Hungary didn't stop him, because America had to admit to himself- that, that was some horrible acting on his part.

'" _Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?_ '" Russia continued. The scene was coming up even he was starting to sweat as it got closer. Shit! He was positive he could do this scene smoothly just to get at America's nerves, but the idea of having to kiss America.

'" _Ay, pilgrim, li-lips that they m-must use in prayer._ " America continued to read, his hands trembling as he did.

'" _O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do_ ,'" Russia inhaled before he grabbed America's wrist and pulled him close. America squealed, completely caught off guard. "' _They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair._ '" He leaned closer to America, their foreheads nearly touched.

(Hungary was paying very close attention to both Russia's and America's body movements as the scene got closer. Although, Russia was doing a good job saying his lines without the script in hand. She could see him hesitating. America, on the other hand, did not hide the fact that he did not want to kiss Russia.)

America began pulling away as Russia got close to his personal space, believe it or not, Americans loved their personal-space. "' _S-saints d-do not move, though g-grant f-for p-prayers' sake._ '"

'"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take,'" And Russia froze, dropping America in the process.

America fell on his bottom -the cast snickered-.

"Okay, Cut!" Hungary said out loud. "Again."

.

.

.

"Cut! Again!"

"Again!"

"Pretend you're kissing someone you love."

"No. America, Russia is not a punching bag!"

"Russia don't kill America!"

.

.

.

-to be continued

 **Romeo and Juliet By: William Shakespeare Hetalia Cast :**  
 _Romeo: Russia_  
 _Juliet: America_  
 _Tybalt (Capulet) : Romano_  
 _Capulet: France_  
 _Lady Capulet: England_  
 _Montague: Germany_  
 _Lady Montague: Italy_

 _Director: Hungary_

 _Stage Manager: Lichtenstein_

 _(More of the cast will be revealed as the story continues)_

 _Review Responses_

 ** _snowywons: Thank you!_**


	3. Chapter 3

Just one hour ago Russia and America had been at that -random stage in London- and the next they were kicked off the stage and locked in a small storage room with barely any light emitted from the light bulb dangling from the ceiling.

 _ **( -One hour ago-)**_

 _Germany barely managed to pull Russia away from choking America to death. America despite ending up on the ground with his back on the floor fought back by twisting Russia's wrist and nearly breaking Russia's arm. No one was surprised at the sudden change during practice and kind of were waiting for the second or minute for the two to start fighting. Next, Hungary was spitting out words, scolding the boys in which America interrupted saying-_

 _"Why don't you just give someone else Juliet?"_

 _It was the easiest solution, but oh Hungary could be stubborn and evil. She instructed America and Russia to follow her; they had to or face the doom of her beloved pan. Not wanting to face the doom of the pan they followed Hungary backstage and further backstage, past the dressing room, up a few floors and halls, then she paused in front of a door and told them to go inside. They did without thinking. Hungary slammed the door shut and locked it._

 _"Neither of you are allowed out of this room until you can kiss like lovers." She ordered from the other side. "And don't think about breaking the door. I heard this building and everything in it has high historical value. Break one thing and you could face major consequences. Ask England."_

 **~:::::~**

And that was how America and Russia ended up alone in a storage room.

"No!" America cried prepared to break down the door with his super strength, but stopped mere inches from the door. If what Hungary said is true of this theater having historical value to England then he couldn't damage the door. He didn't want England to hate him, though America didn't show it, he cared about England. He placed his hands on the door and dramatically slid to the floor. "I hate my life."

Russia was inches away from pulling his pipe from inside his costume ( _he managed to hide it wel_ l) and just break the door. Who cares about its value, but then he thought about the what ifs. What if this was his historical valuable theater ( _he had a few_ ) he wouldn't want there to be any damage. He'd probably kill the person responsible for damaging his valuables. He placed his pipe back in its hiding spot and took a breath of the air.

"Listen, Amerika," Russia began. "I don't want to kiss you as much as you don't want to kiss me, da?"

"Yes," America agreed. "I'd die first."

"And I'd gladly grant your wish," Russia promised.

America didn't even tremble at the promise in Russia's voice. Unlike the other nations America rarely showed his fear of Russia. Oh America feared him ( _Russia knew_ ), but his fear didn't prevent him from challenging Russia. Russia admired that about America, he just wont let America know.

"But Hungary is right," Russia continued. "We need to practice the kissing, da?"

America peeked over his shoulder, glared at Russia for a second or two, then took a breath of -giving-in.

 **~::::::~**

"Germany, Germany," Italy ran to his ' _husband_ '. He tripped on the hem of his skirt and crashed into the well built man. Germany moved his arms around Italy's waist and with his footed strength managed to prevent the crash from becoming a fall.

"What is it, Italy?" Germany loosened his hold.

Italy stood up and dusted the invisible dust on his skirt. "I just realized...we don;t have many lines or scenes."

"So? Less lines to remember," Germany shrugged without a care about the amount of scenes or lines given to him.

"Oh," Italy pouted. "I wanted to spend more time with my ' _husband_ '."

A hint of pink appeared on Germany's cheeks. "We can be husband and wife off stage?" He suggested.

"Really?" If Italy had a tail it would be wagging. "Then...can I kiss my husband."

Germany's face went from pink to red. "Um...uh...yes. why not?" He closed his eyes and waited, and his heart was beating like a loud drum.

Italy went on his tip toes, his lips mere inches from Germany's.

"Okay!" Hungary interrupted, she approached the center of the stage and clapped her hands.

The loud chatter of the theater dimmed, and the kiss Italy would have given Germany forgotten.

"Lets start with Act 1 scene 1." She instructed.

 **~:::::~**

America sat on a random chair he found in the storage room. He played with his fingers as he waited for Russia to do the same. Russia found another random chair a few feet away and placed the chair on the opposite side of America. He sat down on the chair, crossed his legs, held his hands together, and rested them on his knees. He studied America carefully who was avoiding making eye contact with Russia and he was mumbling some words in...Russia listened carefully...in some Native American tongue. Russia wasn't surprised.

He hesitantly took hold of America's hands. They were warm to the touch in contrast to his own.

"F**k!" America pulled his hands away. "Your hands are cold!"

"You didn't say that when I held your hand earlier," Russia pointed out taking America's hands again. This time he held them tight.

America shivered from the coldness of Russia's hands.

"That's because I was in character!" America argued.

"And you did a splendid job," Russia said sarcastically.

America pulled his hands away again and glared at Russia. "Because I cant stand seeing your face!"

"I'm hurt," Russia lied. "But enough talking," Russia grabbed the collar of America's dress and pulled him to him so their foreheads were touching. "Lets kiss, da?"

 **~::::::~**

"I wish that was me and you in that storage room," France pouted. He couldn't stop staring at the stairs leading to that storage room where America and Russia were locked in. He was jealous of the alone time those two got while he and England were stuck backstage ( _with the other cast_ ) rehearsing their lines on a love seat.

"They're in there to practice kissing," England stated. He was glad it wasn't him stuck in the storage room with France.

"But what if they do more than the kissing," France argued becoming more jealous as he imagined Russia and America nude and well..."aren't you worried the storage room will smell like sex."

"America is too childish to think of sex and I doubt Russia is any different," England sighed getting annoyed. "Now enough about them I need you to memorize your lines, Frog."

"It should be you and I in there doing it." France continued.

England's face became red. He rolled his script and smacked France on the head before getting up. "I'm gonna help the others with their character. " and he was gone.

 **~:::::~**

Russia was on the floor with broken shards of a chair splattered on the ground and on his hair. America was standing over him holding a piece of the leg and breathing like an angry bear. They hadn't kissed yet.

"Kolkolkol," The temperature in the room dropped. Russia grabbed the hem of America's skirt and pulled it. America fell on his back, his head crashing to the ground nearly blacking him out. Russia took America's current weakness to climb on top of America and pin his arms over his head. They just had to kiss that was it...a kiss of love...maybe he should bite America's tongue too.

America blinked a few times until the dizziness was gone from his head. Sky blue eyes met violet. And shit! Was Russia on top of him. No! He refused to be dominated. They fought and they fought, supplies in the room crashed into pieces on the ground until their energy was drained from the fight and they were both panting for air on the ground.

Russia and America were lying side by side.

"Why cant we kiss?" America questioned out loud.

"I don't mind the kissing, Amerika," Russia admitted. It was only a kiss. "But you turn to violence before I can kiss you."

"Sorry, sorry," America groaned. He hated to accept the fact that he was the one being too childish. He dug his fingers in the cracked wood of some old prop. ( _Oh England wasn't going to be happy about the damages left in this room_ ). America closed his eyes. "I'll keep my eyes closed so you can kiss me."

Russia lifted his head to stare at America. "If you attack me I will choke you."

"Yeah, yeah," It looked like America rolled his eyes with them closed.

Russia placed his hand on America's face, his thumb brushed his cheek. America's skin was surprisingly soft to the touch. Russia leaned close to America. _Pretend_. He thought to himself. He just had to pretend America was someone he loved. Like a sunflower. Sunflowers were beautiful. He could kiss their petals.

He leaned closer until he could feel America's breath on his face.

 _Sunflowers_.

 _Sunflowers_.

And...he brushed his lips on America's.

-to be continued


End file.
